I don't smile, Mr Riddle, not for you
by xXfireXflyXx
Summary: ONE-SHOT. Minerva McGonagall finds herself visited by an old flame in the summer of 1956.


Set in the summer of 1956; one shot.

Minerva McGonagall stood in the shower, letting the cold water run down her body. She had just gotten home from a party her close friends, and new colleagues, had thrown for her. There was only a week left until she started teaching as Transfigurations Mistress at Hogwarts, and she had finally gotten over the thirty-year old mark. Although she was only a year older, she felt a great deal more mature, especially since most of the teachers she was working with were older than her. It seemed Dumbledore, the Headmaster, thought she was qualified enough to head the entire department on her own!  
She had spent nearly the entire summer planning and revising her lesson plans. They needed to be plotted down to the exact point; no loopholes. She had even written out what homework should be assigned for which lesson.  
That had always been a part of her personality. She made sure each fine detail of her schoolwork was precise and clear, and had always achieved top marks. There was no room for shabby work, not in her books. The only time she gave herself a little grace was to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch matches during her school years. Well, now that she was going to be teaching, she supposed it wouldn't be too terrible to catch a game every so often.  
Minerva stepped out of the shower and turned it off, not wanting to waste anymore water than necessary. She couldn't wait to move into Hogwarts; the electricity and water bills from this Muggle hotel were simply killing her. Dumbledore had pitched in an allowance to help her pay for a room, but she felt strange accepting it from him. He was such a kindly man.  
After wrapping her long, black hair up in a towel, she grabbed a bathrobe and made her way out into the tiny living room-bedroom combination the hotel provided, and the small kitchen she had magically added on. Dumbledore had popped over when she first checked into the hotel, and cast a spell to keep the Muggles from seeing her magical additions.  
She scuffled across the room, holding her swaying tower of a towel on her head with one hand, and used the other to pick up a rather thick notebook with her lesson plans in it. May as well go over them before she start. While she had basically memorized them all, there was no harm in really cementing it into her mind.  
"You know... You really shouldn't study so hard, Min," a male voice commented, causing her to release a gasp and drop her notebook, papers sprawling out everywhere, "It's harmful to one's health."  
She ripped her wand up off the counter and whipped back, her small eyes resting upon a certain Tom Riddle. He was leaning back against the wall, casually grinning at her. How could she have just _walked_ past him and not noticed?!  
"I was tempted to come visit you in the shower," he mused, glancing down at his nails, "But I fear you may have _clawed_ my eyes out."  
Oh, that damn boy. Man. He was a man. They had dated for three years, secretly, during school, but Minerva broke it off once she graduated. He was a year younger than she was, and there was no sense in keeping any sort of romance alive.  
"How did you get in, Tom?" she demanded, furious with herself for letting him catch her off guard. He shrugged, "The locks weren't that hard to open... Nor were the spells that difficult to break."  
She glared at him, then absentmindedly drew her robe closer when she noticed his eyes drifting downward, "What are you doing here? Last I heard you were working for Borgin."  
"I am," he stated, his eyes flashing, "But tonight's my night off, and I just happened to stumble across a group of drunken Hogwarts teachers giggling about the rowdy party they just had for Minerva McGonagall... Couldn't help but drop by."  
"I think you should leave, Tom."  
He watched her for a moment, then pushed himself off the wall, casually strolling toward her, "I've got a question for you now, Min... Why didn't you ever answer the letters?"  
Minerva remembered the stream of letters he sent her, each one demanding to know where she was, and that he knew she still loved him. Naturally, she tossed each and every one into the nearest available fireplace, and soon stopped reading them all together.  
"I didn't think I needed to answer them," she replied, countering his step by moving back, "We ended things, Tom. You have your life to lead, and I have mine."  
Her straight-backed posture did not falter, no matter how close he slunk toward her. She had the knack for not letting people know how nervous she was.  
"Missed you, Min."  
"Stop calling me that disgusting name," she ordered, suddenly hating the way his old pet name made her stomach knot with excitement, "I've grown out of you, Tom, I'm afraid. Once again; I think you should leave."  
"Come on, Min," he chuckled, using her name to spite her, "I only just got here."  
She was backed far enough away from him to run for the door, if she neeed to. He stopped advancing for a moment, then crouched down beside her scattered lesson plans, picking up a few of the papers and skimming them over. He grinned, "You're going to make those poor students go through Hell, aren't you?"  
"It'll make them strong," she responded, keeping her wand on him. She flicked it at the lesson plans quickly, and they all flew up neatly onto her counter. Tom rose, and smiled at her with his charming smile, "Come on, Min. I'm not going to hurt you... I just came to catch up."  
"I don't want to... Not with you," she stated, her eyes narrowing, "Leave, Tom, or I will be forced to stun you."  
"I'd like to see you try," he mused darkly, slipping his wand out of his sleeve and into his hand skillfully, "You know I'm better at dueling, Min."  
Blast. He was right, as much as she hated to admit it. Minerva looked down her nose at him, "Be that as it may, don't think I won't scream. I'll run out of here, Tom, and I will have you locked away for harassment by the Muggles."  
Tom's smile fell, and he wrinkled his nose at her, "Sick the Muggles on me? Ha. I think we'd have a load of dead filth on our hands, don't you think?"  
"Most likely," she sighed, her arm starting to shake from holding it up, "Tom, just go. I'm stressed out enough as it is. I don't need _you_ making things worse."  
Before she could think to stop him, he strode across the room to her, then shoved her forcefully up against the wall, causing her to let out a soft yelp in pain. His hand went to the towel in her hair and he snatched it off, allowing her wet, black hair to tumble down into her face and onto her shoulder. He brushed some of it away, then smiled, "Give me a smile, Min... You look so pretty when you do."  
"I don't smile, Mr. Riddle... Not for you," she snarled tightly, her nostrils flaring, "Now... Release me."  
He pressed against her a little harder, and she held in a whimper. However, he finally backed away, his eyes cold as they glared into her, "You'll see, Min. It was a mistake to leave me... One day I'll own this world, and everything in it."  
"Don't dream too big, Tom," she growled, "Your ego is large enough without filling it with more empty desires."  
"Do you think you're an empty desire, Min?" he inquired, his eyes running over her robed body once more. She folded her arms, deciding her wand wouldn't do her any good in the end, "I don't know."  
"We'll just have to see then," he laughed, taking a step closer to her, a hand now resting on her small hip, "Won't we?"  
She made to shove his large, thin hand away, but her distraction gave his free hand a chance to catch her chin, tilting it up to give her a quick kiss. She staggered back when he let her go, a hand over her mouth, "Leave, Tom."  
"We'll see a lot of each other in the future, Min," he promised her viley, shooting her a quick grin, "You'll see... Smile, Min."  
He apparated out of the room, and she felt herself tearing up before sneering, "I don't smile."


End file.
